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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25501414">Scars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum'>CoconutRum</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Bottom Jack, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Top Will</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:28:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25501414</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>TOTAL FLUFF session.<br/>Jack gets beaten in an alley. Will finds him. Hurt/comfort stuff.</p><p>Jack is vulnerable. Will is a caretaker. </p><p>I own nothing.<br/>Absolute chick flick fic. You've been warned.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Sparrow/Will Turner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>126</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Havent written anything of this nature and was not sure whether or not to post.  But hey, insomnia speaks.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jack opened his eyes, taking a shaky breath. His ribs twinged with both the inhale and exhale; a sharp stitch on his right side made him pause. Looking around, he saw he was still in the alley way; flies buzzed around an apple core, the lamps were still lit, he surmised it was barely day break. The metallic taste of blood bit at his tongue. He could smell someone’s freshly lit cigarette wafting through a window, making his stomach turn as bile rose in his throat - his head pounding. </p><p>He pressed his body upward, unsticking his face from the cobblestones; his cheekbone stung and a dull throbbing ache pulsed in his left ear. He felt as though his veins were pumping lead; his legs heavy and protesting as he stood. Trudging, he barely noticed his torn sleeve, caked with drying, congealed blood on his right arm. </p><p>“….A pirate’s life for me.” He muttered to himself, heading towards the dock.</p><p>He prayed everyone aboard the Pearl was still asleep as he limped up the gangplank, his breaths short as not to aggravate what felt like a cracked rib. It was still cold enough to see the mist in the air, the lamps casting halos of light in the streets.</p><p>Jack fell bonelessly onto his bed without bothering to change his clothes -- immediately regretting not letting himself down a little easier, wincing in pain. His entire body burned as he tried to recall more than mere flashes of the previous night. </p><p>He knew he didn’t get all *that* drunk...a rare thing...and remembered going out to take a piss in the alley. There were a couple of men standing around smoking, he could smell their cigars. Everything was a bit blurry as to how things started; did he ask them for a light? Or where the brothel was?</p><p>The only things he could remember clearly were those which he’d rather forget. </p><p>In an effort to forgo useless and wildly inconvenient emotions, his brain took over for his body, forcing him into a deep, cold sleep.</p><p>Waking for the second time that day felt much like the first. Sitting up, he groaned as his hands made their way to unlace his shirt. A hot bath and a drink, he thought, then he’d be able to face the crew. Reaching upward, he felt the skin on his right arm stretch, pulling at the scabbing cut; threatening to open again.</p><p>“Bloody hell,” He hissed, taking more care than he wanted to remove that sleeve. He felt clumsy. Hands trembling, eyes glued shut, panting. His entire body in some frantic paranoid state between exhaustion, and completely on edge with pain, jumping at any noise he heard. Shirt finally removed; he gave himself a small congratulatory smirk as he got up to run the bath, glancing at his reflection in the cracked, tarnished mirror as he passed.</p><p>His face was weathered with sun, surf … and age. His hair was mangled with useless trinkets from God knows where; cheekbones more hollow and prominent - one of them now sporting a ‘Devil may care’ gash across it. He didn’t bother assessing the rest of his body; he’d lost interest in that some time ago. It was a vessel. A husk, a shell; and most often quite an inconvenience. What poor design would yield such inability to kill and bury one’s sadistically haunting demons?</p><p>He definitely needed that drink. Or three. </p><p>Taps running, Jack made his way back to the dresser for a towel. A knock at the door made him jump as he began to remove his boots. </p><p>“What in Davey Jones’ Locker do you bloody need?!” He barked, voice hoarse. </p><p>The door squeaked as Will stepped in, nonchalantly. </p><p>“Jack, we cast off in an hour, did you wa…” His voice trailed off as he looked Jack over, trying to keep the shock off his face.</p><p>“William…” Jack took off his other boot, livid, seeing Turner staring, “Best move along lad, before I give you the same treatment…” He locked eyes with the blacksmith, daring him to call his bluff. </p><p>Will ignored his empty threat, shut the door, and made his way toward the bed. Jack huffed, and ducked out to stop the taps and let the water cool a bit. When he stepped back in, Will’s face was one of concern. Jack hated that face and went back to acting like he was alone; undoing his various belts and laces as though Will weren’t there, facing the dresser. He could feel Will staring at him.</p><p>“Jack, “ Will stammered, “Turn around.” His voice was gentle, but also pained. He didn’t advance, just sat.</p><p>Sparrow, fighting the urge to argue, turned. He spread his arms wide in jest, grinning maniacally. He even gave Will a slow, mocking spin, letting the blacksmith assess him from all sides.</p><p>In the weak morning light, Turner saw purpling bruises across Jack’s ribs and abdomen; dried blood on his arm and cheek; ghosts of scars across his back and chest, some of them recent, blushing pink and not fully healed. His torso was smattered with glowing red scuff burns, like he was dragged or pushed against a brick wall, or pavement. </p><p>Sparrow stood there; immune. Oblivious. Numb.<br/>“Satisfied?” he growled. </p><p>Will sat calmly, waiting. He didn’t speak, just stared patiently into deep, dark, coal rimmed eyes. <br/>Vexed, Jack couldn’t stand the silence.</p><p>“What in seven hells do you want, boy?” Jack’s lungs felt constricted. “Can’t a man have some goddamn privacy and quiet on his own ship?” </p><p>Silently, Will stood; the small action making Sparrow reflexively step back. He cursed himself under his breath for being so girlishly skittish. </p><p>Turner watched Jack’s chest; breaths coming in shorter, faster bursts. Closer now, he slowly began to raise his hand to Sparrow’s face,</p><p>“Jack…” Will whispered, fingers whispering along the other man’s cheek.</p><p>Sparrow caught Turner’s wrist in a vice grip. His eyes dark, lips pressed in a thin line; nostrils flaring. His voice, soft and dangerous.</p><p>“I said... best be moving along, lad.” He squeezed Will’s wrist to emphasize his point, before pitching it aside; sending pain lancing up his own arm. He ignored it, turning back to the dresser, hands pressed downward against an open drawer as if to steady himself. </p><p>Will cupped both his hands around Jack’s shoulders attempting to pull him close. </p><p>“Jack, please tell me wh…” But he was cut short as the other man whirled around.</p><p>“What don’t you bloody understand?!” Jack bellowed.</p><p>It happened in a flash. </p><p>Jack pried Will’s hands off of him, raised his own arm, and cuffed Turner square across the jaw, sending him staggering backwards onto the bed. </p><p>Will caught himself in time to (not quite gracefully fall) seated on the mattress. He stared up at Jack, trying to ignore the tang of blood on his lip. </p><p>Sparrow darted forward, hand raised to strike again. He could feel his body reeling with neglected pain and exhaustion. Years worth of repressed memories threatening to boil up to the surface.</p><p>Turner braced himself as he scrambled in an attempt to stand, blocking his face defensely. </p><p>Jack seized Will by the shirt collar, sweat shining on his face as he fought through protests of his muscles and lungs. He was painfully combatting freshly loosened pieces of his past he had so carefully locked away. His foundation, crumbling.</p><p>“Have at me, boy!” He whispered, “Isn’t that what you want?!…” Jack put his brow to Will’s. “Just *use* me.” He snarled, “Everyone else does.” </p><p>Will was dumbstruck. He remained still, braced for another attack. He could smell Jack’s breath, for once not reeking of rum. He smelled of sewer and rubbish; when was the last time he bathed? Up close, Will saw the cut across Sparrow’s cheek was open; crimson threads streaking down his face. Turner pulled back, staring.</p><p> Jack was losing grip on his own thoughts, beginning to spiral.</p><p>“That’s all I am, right? A starved, stray dog to kick around?” He glared at Will.</p><p>“Jack... no...” </p><p>He felt Sparrow’s hands tug upward sharply, nearly pulling him off the bed, holding him there. Will heard his breath hitch. He didn’t dare move.</p><p>The pirate’s eyes were closed. Turner waited, heart in his mouth, instinctually poised to counter what Jack threw at him next. To his surprise, Jack’s grip loosened unexpectedly, and Will watched the man sink to his knees, defeated. </p><p>They were both quiet for a moment. Sparrow’s head was down, body curled inward, hands limp on Will’s lap.</p><p>“Will,” He didn’t even look up, “I’m so tired.” He paused, cursing his ribs. “So….bloody... tired.” Turner gently placed a hand over Jack’s. Silent, as the pirate continued.</p><p>“I’m such a fraud, and everyone is so easily impressed.” He gave a morbid, half assed chuckle. “This life....*my* life - is just embellished nonsense.” </p><p>The blacksmith edged further toward the edge of bed, wanting so desperately to comfort the man at his feet. He bit back words that would have to wait, as Jack carried on.</p><p>“I’ve jumped through all the hoops, checked all the boxes...hell...fucked all the right people…” He paused, glancing distractedly at nothing on the floor. “And, here I am, still begging for scraps. Barely getting by.”</p><p>Will gave Jack’s hand a gentle squeeze, only to have the man pull away. </p><p>“My entire life, William, I’ve walked this gossamer thread dividing a mere simple, but comfortable existence... and fighting for survival. Most days, I can accept that it simply ‘is what it is’ and be ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’ another day. In fact, sometimes that’s easier.”</p><p>He glanced off to the side again, lost in thought. <br/>“I see what you and Elizabeth have. It’s rare, mate. Hold on to that.” A ghost of a smile played on his lips, looking up at Will.</p><p>“I’ve had lovers a plenty, boy.” He hinted at a lighter tone before going somber again, “But at the end of the day, lad, it's every man for himself.”</p><p>Will bristled a bit, steeling himself not to judge Jack’s words and hold them against what he knew they had. </p><p>“Everyone sees it as this uncanny ability to just flit through life, half drunk and screwing women as though it's some blessed existence.” He sat up off his heels, holding the cut on his arm which was now open and bleeding freely. </p><p>“If they knew *why,* Will, they might think twice about pursuing such a life. The things I've seen, William.” He subconsciously squeezed his arm, cringing. “The things I’ve….endured.” He bowed his head again. The scars on his back reflecting menacingly in the low light.</p><p>“Guess I’m just cursed to live in Limbo, as it were.”</p><p>The man was silent. Staring off at some point on the wall, lost in his own mind.</p><p>After a moment, Turner cleared his throat, “Jack…” He locked eyes with him again, holding his gaze, giving him a focal point. Jack’s eyes were dark; his body language raw and exposed as Will watched him fight obvious shards of pain. </p><p>“Jack...“ </p><p> </p><p>He pressed his hand, assuringly, to Sparrow’s shoulders, ghosting his fingertips over marred flesh; nondescript shapes and textures. <br/>“With these,” Will lovingly caressed the knotted muscles, “You outlasted and defeated enemies.”</p><p>He gingerly tipped Jack’s chin upward, exposing a burn on his lower jaw.<br/>“With this,” He ran his thumb over it, affectionately, “You defended your crew.”</p><p>Jack fought the urge to bolt, heart rate rising, threatening a violent outburst.</p><p>Will chanced a hold on one of Jack’s hands. <br/>Keeping eye contact, he drew Sparrow’s left palm upward to his mouth, the scar nearly invisible where he slashed his flesh back in that cave so many years ago.</p><p>“With this, “ he pressed the gnarled scar to his lips, kissing it gently; the memory so clear,  “You saved my life.” </p><p>The fragility of the moment proved too much; Jack shot up, standing and turning on his heel. Will caught him, arms around his chest, sending Sparrow into a tailspin.</p><p>“Goddamn it, William!” He struggled, kicking out, bending and twisting, trying everything in his power to throw the man off. “Can’t you leave bloody well enough alone?!” His entire body was riddled with lancing pain. </p><p>“Leave me!” He was barely whispering, “Like everyone else; like I deserve... just leave me! Forget me!” </p><p>There was a ringing in his ears, and sweat wickedly seeped into every laceration on his skin. He felt as though he was radiating heat. Will was relentless. The two fell to the floor, as Jack, surrendering, could no longer tolerate the torturous sensations his injuries bestowed on him. His whole body quivering, his mind a raw nerve. </p><p>Panting, Will held him. He saw flecks of Jack’s blood had flown onto his own shirt. The men sat there in silence. Sparrow, shuddering as he kept his emotions at bay. He held himself together fiercely, by a thread. His demons baying on their disintegrating leashes. </p><p>Will pressed his face to Jack’s neck; inhaling deeply. Jack took the cue, his own breath stuttering as he tried to match Turner’s.</p><p>Sparrow finally stilled. At long last, drained, exhausted, submitting. </p><p>His arm was hauled over the blacksmith’s shoulders. Jack felt as though his muscles had turned to water as they slowly stood.</p><p>Will grabbed a towel, his voice gentle,<br/>“C’mon. Let's get you cleaned up."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Bathtubs for mental and physical cleanliness. Fluffy sexy times to follow.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Will helped Jack strip out of his clothes, and let him step into the tub. The blacksmith saw more marks on the pirate’s legs; but nothing too serious. The man winced as he sank into the water; his skin stinging like mad. In his periphery, he saw Will making no attempt to leave. He was too tired to care, and, once fully seated, reached for a glass, filling it with rum from the bottle next to the tub. (*Yes, this *is* Jack’s idea of bathroom necessities.)</p><p>The water had quit stinging and was now simply sending heat coursing through his sore muscles.</p><p>“Unnngh….yessssss…” He hissed, feeling the rum burn down his throat, mingled with the satisfying bite of the water temperature. He let his head rest along the edge of the tub, holding his glass precariously out of the way.</p><p>Will let him lie there, enjoying a moment of comfort; getting a better look at his body.<br/>Silently, he grabbed a scrub brush, pulled a small stool to the head of the tub and gently set his hands on Jack’s shoulders. Sparrow fought the reflex to flinch, feeling Will’s sturdy hands coax him up into a seated position. Eyes closed, head slightly swimming, he didn’t bother fighting.</p><p>With Jack hunched over, Turner lathered the brush, and repeatedly pulled it across Sparrow’s shoulders; gently, as not to open any existing wounds. The pirate hissed as the rough bristles scoured his flesh. Will shushed him, soothingly, guiding him to lean back again as he let the brush glide along the planes of Jack’s narrow chest. Sparrow tilted his head back, baring his teeth, exposing the column of his throat. Will watched his body start to tremble as he worked down his ribcage; a sheen of sweat on his brow, abdomen taught and quivering as he breathed.</p><p>Turner set the brush down, and put his hands on Jack’s arms, stroking them gently and placing a kiss on his forehead. Jack took Will’s hand, and pressed it hard against a bruise on his side, the heel of his hand digging in painfully. Sparrow bit his lip, as Turner tried to ease the pressure - only to have Jack press harder. </p><p>“Jack, what are you…?” He paused, taking note of Jack’s hips starting to rock; his cock growing hard in the water. “Doesn’t that hurt?” Will continued, still trying to release his own hand.</p><p>“Which part, lad?” Sparrow huffed, laughing darkly. He squeezed his own hand tightly over Will’s, causing the other man’s nails to grip the bruised skin. Jack gasped at the bolt of pain, his dick standing even taller. He let go as he felt Turner resisting; leaving half moon crescents along his pelvis.</p><p>Will put his hands back on Jack’s shoulders; earning him a whimper.<br/>“You’re getting off on this? On pain?...” he whispered.</p><p>“Am I not, lad?” Jack gestured to his obvious erection. “Just finish us off, would you, luv. Then i can get some sleep and we can put this whole thing behind us.”</p><p>Will leaned down and kissed his neck, reaching for the towel. <br/>“I have a better idea.”</p><p>After a heated session of towelling off Jack’s body, trying to not get too caught up in his pleas and begging; Will had him splayed on cool clean sheets. He had dressed the wound on Jack’s arm, and checked for signs of infection. Jack was at a loss, given he didn’t often let people tend to him this way. He found it hard to believe those who said they cared; assuming an ulterior motive. Still, he trusted Will and let the blacksmith’s sturdy hands clean his cuts and mind his wounds. </p><p>The bath had helped ease some of the tension in his muscles, but Jack was still in no condition to take matters into his own hands without risking further injury. </p><p>He stretched, luxuriously reaching his arms above his head as Will tenderly bound his wrists to the headboard; careful that the knots would not self tighten. </p><p>He looked over Jack’s form; a bit less mangled looking now that he had bathed. Still, his muscles were a bit sinewy, and he had clearly lost a few pounds over the months. His tanned skin and tattoos let him hide some scars quite well. The graze across his left hip where Norrington tried to run him through; the burn on his pectoral muscle from an enemy cannon fight he’d narrowly escaped; the faded lash marks from Singapore, which he knew Jack refused to talk about.</p><p>Part of him pitied Jack. Will was new to this lifestyle, but came into it by choice. Jack hadn’t been as lucky. </p><p>“Did you not merit an invitation, boy?” Jack’s voice broke through Will’s subconsciousness, his hips canting upward. He looked worn out, drained.</p><p>Will leaned down, capturing his mouth in a tender kiss, continuing around to his neck and chest. The man beneath him sighed, arching up into the gentle touch. </p><p>He was so used to everything being rough, fast, and rushed; the slow pace threw him and made him a bit nervous. </p><p>“William,” He moaned. “What the hell are you doing? I'm not your bloody wife. ”</p><p>Turner cradled Jack’s shoulders, sliding his hands down his sides and back up again, pulling a shiver from the pirate lord, the exposed flesh under his arms wildly sensitive. Jack’s cock rubbed against Will’s thigh.</p><p>“Obviously…” Turner whispered.<br/>Will brushed his tongue over the man’s nipple before taking it between his teeth and pulling. </p><p>Jack gasped, trying to curl upward, but the ropes held him awkwardly in place, keeping his head down in the soft pillows. He pressed his head back, succumbing to the lad’s ministrations.</p><p>Will took another coil of rope from the bedside table, setting it on the mattress. Gingerly, he kneaded the muscles of Jack’s left thigh, twisting slightly. The pirate naturally relaxed, pushing his leg up into Will’s palm, craving more of his touch. The blacksmith cleverly hooked his own thumb into the crook of Sparrow’s knee, causing it to bend. He peppered Jack’s calf with kisses and sucked at the taught muscle before taking the rope in hand, and tying a loose, but secure multi-stranded band around the ankle.</p><p>Softly, he pressed Sparrow’s heel to his buttock, folding the leg in on itself completely. He waited for the man to adjust, taking care with the knee joint. Satisfied, Turner wrapped four bands from the ankle, across Jack’s upper thigh below the hip, and returning to the origin again across his shin with each turn; thus holding the leg in its bent position. Before continuing, he nibbled at the sensitive skin of Jack’s inner thigh; laughing as the pirate tried to kick out in surprise, then submit to his restraints, reveling in the lazy bite of the rope. It was slightly prickly and felt coarse and sharp against his supple skin.</p><p>Will then tied a loop and knot across the first four bands at the crux of where the ankle met the back of Jack’s thigh, securing them together. He then pulled a perpendicular line upward before winding a second set of four identical bands further up his leg, closer to, but below the knee joint.</p><p>After checking the ropes placement, to avoid chafing on the shin bone, Will moved the leg in its range of motion, checking for comfort and mobility. He bowed his head to kiss Jack’s heel, teasingly.</p><p>Jack was nearly cursing, given how slowly everything was moving, but at the same time, drinking in the attention Will was giving him.  He was caught, balancing between a strange sense of desperation and appreciation.</p><p>Will checked Sparrow’s wrists again before grabbing the bottle of oil from the night stand. He took two fingers, and hooked them on Jack’s lower jaw; the pirate sucked them eagerly as the blacksmith also pinched at the soft skin above his hip bone, making him buck. The leg restraint cut deliciously into his flesh, a delightful burn sending electricity through his cock. His own hands gripped at their bonds, now slick with sweat. </p><p>“Damnit, William,” Jack begged, gritting his teeth together in frustration as Will removed his hand from his mouth. Turner just smiled, pulling at the ropes binding Sparrow’s leg, placing the sole of the pirate’s foot against his chest, holding it there. Jack shuddered as a wave of dull pain coursed over his ribs, going straight to his dick. Mewling, he began to fidget, his body searching for any means of friction. His brain was pleasantly confused at the sensation of the rope confining him. He started to writhe under Will’s scrutiny.</p><p>The blacksmith watched Jack’s muscles flicker in anguish as the man fought between instinct and control. His hips rolled, he arched his back in frustration and his arms bent in a desperate attempt to slip his ropes and alleviate his neglected cock. All the while, each movement caused it’s own torture as bonds gripped flesh and movement was denied. He threw his head back, growling.</p><p>“Jack, “ Will whispered, slicking his fingers with oil and gently began probing Sparrow’s entrance, “Just let me do this for you.”</p><p>Sparrow heard him in some distant, faint capacity as he tried to slow his rapid breathing. He wanted to burst out of his own skin, to feel that rush that pain so magnificently allowed him. Digits moved through him, torturously slow.</p><p>He heard Will shush him again; he hadn't realized he was positively shaking with need. </p><p>“Will, please…” He moaned.</p><p>Turner, his own cock throbbing, waited for Jack to still. <br/>“Stop fighting. Relax. I’ve got you.” He bent and kissed Jack’s mouth, cradling his head. The pirate kissed back, fierce and vulnerable. Trying to gain some sense of control which remained so far out of reach. </p><p>Will stroked his hair, lapped at his collarbone, and nuzzled his face; enjoying the scruff he was always so fond of. Jack opened his eyes, panting with need.</p><p>Turner slicked his own cock, lined it up with the man’s entrance,  He stared down at him, </p><p>“Trust me.” He pulled the ropes of Jack’s bound leg, pressing the man’s foot into the hollow between his neck and shoulder. He leaned in for another kiss, pressing himself against Jack’s entrance. </p><p>“You’re safe.” </p><p>Finally. Jack exhaled. Will felt his body still. <br/>He stared up at Turner, taking a deep breath, and nodded. </p><p>Will slowly sank into his warm, welcoming heat. He began to thrust in a slow rhythm, letting the pirate adjust. He moved Jack’s leg sideways slightly, changing the angle; causing Jack to curse rather loudly.</p><p>Turner let his hips move quicker as he twisted the rope in his hand, making it bite down viciously into the meat of Jack’s thigh. The man beneath him cried out. His mind lost in ecstasy to the exquisite pain it caused him. </p><p>“So…: Jack’s mouth was dry, “So close, Will.” His forearms ached, his bonds rubbing his skin to a glowing red. </p><p>Will hitched Jack’s leg up, bending further at the hip, pressing Jack’s knee towards his face, opening him up even more. Sparrow’s body began to quiver as Will snapped his hips, finally hitting the electric bundle of nerves at Jack’s center. </p><p>The pirate felt his muscles clench around Turner as he shot hot seed across his belly. Will followed, cumming forcefully on the warm walls of Jack’s body.</p><p>Although he was spent, Will gently pulled out, in order to immediately untie Jack and check his circulation. Jack lay, boneless; his body shining with sweat. Unbound, he felt a sense of euphoria, even weightlessness. </p><p>He curled into Will’s arms, silent; appreciative. <br/>Turner took his hand again, lovingly kissing his scarred palm before both drifted off to sleep.</p>
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